


Diced

by Vythian



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, guest starring Fusco, post-Samaritan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-18 02:08:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14843574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vythian/pseuds/Vythian
Summary: Root and Shaw must go undercover on a popular cooking show to figure out what the hell is up with their newest number.





	Diced

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bruisespristine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bruisespristine/gifts).



> Okay so two things: this was supposed to be a 1500 word drabble and I got very, very carried away; and I know it isn't exactly what you asked for, but I'm terrible at full AUs, so i really hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Shaw stared at the large sign in front of her. It loudly declared that this was the crew entrance in a font that was, in Shaw’s opinion, far too whimsical for 5:00 in the morning. She took a large swig of her coffee and glanced around at the bustling market vendors, the only people awake this early. Across the street, two large men were attempting to lift an even larger tuna out of the back of a truck. Shaw watched them struggle, smiling slightly when they finally managed to heft the thing onto the cart they were using to move their cargo to the vendor stalls in Chelsea Market. She caught a flash of white at the edge of her vision, her head whipping to the right just in time to see Root round the corner in her white chef’s coat. 

“You must be losing your edge” Shaw smirked as Root drew up beside her “I saw you coming a mile away.”

Root smiled mischievously and shrugged. “Oh sweetie” she drawled “It’s not all sneaking around and secrecy. I was just enjoying the walk.”

“At 5:00 in the morning?” Shaw said skeptically. “Miss sleeps-til-noon-at-every-opportunity was enjoying a walk at 5:00 in the morning?” 

Root just shrugged again and stole some of Shaw’s coffee. Shaw was finding that it bothered her less and less, sharing things with Root. 

But that didn’t mean Root could just take all her coffee like she was some sort of….barista, or something. Shaw snatched the cup back as Root attempted another sip and chugged half its contents.

“Root, what are we doing in Chelsea at a film studio at five in the morning?” Shaw said.

“I’m so glad you asked, sweetie. We’re going to be on Diced!” 

Shaw raised an eyebrow and stared at Root, waiting for further explanation.

“Well, I’m going to be on Diced. You’re going to be on the crew of Diced.”

Shaw rolled her eyes. The all black she was wearing made sense now. “Alright, who’s the number then? Cast, crew, or contestant?”

Root tilted her head for a moment, in that way that Shaw knew meant she was listening to The Machine. She waited patiently, fiddling with her phone as a text with a man’s face popped up. He was young, maybe mid-twenties, with cleancut light brown hair and rather striking green eyes. There was something off though. His shoulders were hunched slightly and his smile didn’t reach his eyes. Shaw got a very bad feeling.

“Kevin Fredrickson. 28. Production Assistant on Diced.” Root repeated as The Machine beeped in her ear. She glanced at the photo and grimaced. 

“Oh he looks like fun.” she said sarcastically. 

Shaw pinched the bridge of her nose. It was too early for this. 

“What’s the plan Root?” 

“Well, one of his ex-girlfriends is a contestant today. And apparently one of the judges really doesn’t like the guy. So you” Root put her hands on Shaw’s shoulders for emphasis, “keep tabs on our PA friend and the judge and I’ll keep an eye on the ex. Fusco will run background.”

“Fusco?”

 _“Yea yea what do you want miss congeniality?”_ Fusco’s voice grumpily crackled through the comms. Apparently he wasn’t too happy about the time either.

“Nothing. Just….don’t forget to take Bear for his morning walk.” Shaw jammed the off button on her comms and stalked toward the entrance, handing Root the rest of her coffee and grumbling the whole way.

__________________

 

“Ohmygoshthankgodyourehereweweresoscrewed” a tall woman with large glasses perched on her nose and black hair tied back from her round face was practically running toward Shaw and talking a mile a minute.

“My name is Andrea.” Andrea grabbed Shaw’s hand and began to shake it vigorously. “I’m the production manager here on Diced. You’re the replacement boom operator right? Thank god you were available! When Benny called out last night and our first replacement canceled this morning I thought we were done for!”

Andrea was still shaking her hand. Shaw slowly stopped their hands and grunted in affirmation. She was used to going with the flow by now. 

“Sorry, in all the confusion I didn’t catch your name?”

“Sam” Shaw said. “Sam Arian”

“Well, Sam Arian, welcome to Diced!” Andrea started to walk away and Shaw followed. She nearly had to jog to keep up with Andrea’s long strides. “Over here to the left is the crew lounge. There are lockers for your stuff and tables for lunch. Up ahead on the right is where we stage the contestants, they should be arriving in about half an hour. Here” Andrea pointed to a large hallway as they passed “is where eliminated contestants exit. And here,” she stopped so suddenly Shaw nearly walked into her “is the main set. Pantry on the right is where we do the confessionals after eliminations, left is the judging table, and this area in the middle is where you’ll spend most of your time.”

The set was massive, with four large, identical tables lined up in the middle. Each table had a stove and oven behind it. Dozens of utensils, knives, and cutting boards were lined up on the shelves below the tables. And on top, four black baskets sat in neat order, waiting ominously to be opened.

“Don’t worry, the baskets don’t have anything in them yet. It’s just easier to stage them now for prelim and behind-the-scenes shots.” Andrea said. “The judges’ dressing rooms and break area are down that way.” She pointed left to a small hallway that headed offstage and glanced at her clipboard. “Well, I think that’s it! Time to meet the rest of the crew!”

Shaw followed her back toward the crew area, past cameras and boom & lighting racks. The rest of her introductions went a little more smoothly. There was Jasmine, a steadicam operator who seemed to know just about everything going on around set; Brian, a lighting guy who seemed nicer than a puppy and about as smart; Alex and Rebecca, the lighting and sound best boys; and Kevin, who was quiet and couldn’t seem to meet Shaw’s eyes.

__________________

 

The morning went by quickly. Shaw helped with the ridiculous number of things that needed setting up, taking down, moving over, setting up again, and moving back to their original spots. There was all the sound gear, the lighting gear, not to mention the pantry stockers and basket ingredients to be sorted out and placed. 

Shaw had little time to wonder at what the number was up to without arousing suspicion, so she listened in on the gossip and idle chit chat of the crew instead. Most of the news, like Alex and Rebecca’s recent engagement or Brian’s wild party stories, were completely useless. But the workplace drama was surprisingly useful.

“...I’m just telling you what I heard, Lexi! You and Becca need to be careful around him. That guy is crazy.”

Shaw slowed to a stop and lowered the large box of radio microphones and extension cables she was carrying. Alex and Jasmine were whispering heatedly in a side hallway near the main set. Shaw kneeled behind a rack of spare stage lights and pretended to be checking the contents of her box.

“Look Jaz, I know you worry…” Alex whispered harshly “but have you seen the way Martinez treats him? I know Kevin can seem a little creepy, but he’s probably just upset over Bianchi dumping him. There’s no way he’s actually dangerous!”

Jasmine jabbed her finger in Alex’s face, looking furious. “He never dated her you idiot! She’s happily married to that finance chick from the news! Look, just be care…...shit!” Jasmine had rounded the corner. Right into Shaw’s box of microphones. “Arian, right? How much of that did you hear?”

Shaw shrugged. “Not much, just that Kevin is a creep and someone named Bianchi is married?”

Jasmine rolled her eyes. “Lexi Bianchi? Restaurateur extraordinaire and Diced judge?” She flustered at Shaw’s silent stare. “Anyway, just steer clear of the guy okay?”

“Alright, thanks for the tip.” Jasmine stormed off and Alex gave her an apologetic look before heading toward the lighting department.

Shaw waited until she was out of sight before jabbing her comms. “Fusco!”

_“Yes! I walked the dog already! No need to check up on me.” _came the gruff reply.__

____

__

“No, not that.” Shaw replied. “I need you to look into Kevin Fredrickson and any connection he might have to a Chef Lexi Bianchi. Also, look up a Martinez associated with the show. Apparently Kevin’s got an ax to grind with them too.”

_“Got it. I’ll let you know when I’ve got something.”_

Shaw jabbed her comms again “Root?”

_“Hey Sweetie, how’s it going?”_

Shaw ducked toward the narrow hallway Alex and Jasmine had just vacated. “Our guy’s got a problem with a judge.”

___________________

 

Root’s morning was not nearly as busy as Shaw’s. After arriving at the set, she was shown into a holding room and told to wait. As the other contestants trickled in, they made small talk about where they had worked and then sat in silence waiting to be called for their intros. There was Jackson DiPierro, a short man with more tattoos than Root could count and a friendly smile. He was sous chef at a Mexican fusion restaurant in Los Angeles. Next came Monica Hernandez, a tall woman with pretty brown eyes and the arms of a Marine. She owned a five-star restaurant in Seattle and, at 30, already had a James Beard award under her belt. Last to appear was Kevin’s ex. 

_Emily Calderro._ The Machine beeped through Root’s implant. _30\. Sous Chef at Empire Diner in New York._

“Hi!” Emily said brightly as she was shown into the holding room. The other chefs waved silently at her.

“Hello!” Root replied brightly and stuck out her hand. “Hannah Karpinski. Executive Chef at Edge. Alternate contestant.” 

“Holy crap you’re at Edge?” Emily shook her hand eagerly. “You guys are doing amazing stuff right now!”

Root smiled humbly. “Thank you. And you are?”

“Oh right!” Emily shook her head and took the stool next to Root. “Emily Calderro. Sous Chef at Empire Diner.”

“It’s nice to meet you Emily.” Root lowered her head conspiratorially. Emily matched her until their heads were nearly touching. “So, ever been on Diced before?”

Emily grimaced. “No. But my ex-boyfriend worked here. Or….works here. I’m not sure.”

Root put on a faux sympathetic face. “Oh no! Are you alright?”

“Yea” Emily shrugged. “I broke up with him. He got weirdly obsessed with one of the judges. It got kind of creepy, so I left.”

“Oh that’s awful. Hopefully he isn’t here anymore.” Root said.

Just then the door smacked open and a PA poked their head in. “Karpinski!”

Root looked up.

“Jennings is a no show. You’re in! We need you for your intro now.” He ushered her out of the room and slammed the door behind him.

As he led her down the hallway, Root’s implant buzzed. _“Hey Root?”_

“Hey Sweetie, how’s it going?” she replied quietly so that the PA in front of her wouldn’t hear.

_“Our guy’s got a problem with a judge.”_

Root ducked her head, falling a few strides behind the PA. “Yea, I know. Apparently he was obsessed with one of them. That’s why the ex dumped him. I don’t think she’s the threat.”

“I agree” Root heard Shaw’s voice before it came through her implant and looked around, spotting her in a hallway as the PA led her through the set.

 _“He also has a problem with another judge. Apparently he and Jesus Martinez do not get along.”_ Shaw continued.

“Yea” Root whispered as they rounded a corner into the large hallway set “the question now is which judge? And how is he going to do it?”

____________________

 

“I’m Hannah Karpinski. Executive Chef at Edge Restaurant in New York City.” Shaw rolled her eyes and adjusted the boom in her hands as Root strode purposefully to her mark in the archway leading to the kitchen. She paused for a minute and then strode to her table at the far end of the kitchen. 

They had spent the morning filming extra descriptions of their cooking techniques and getting footage of Root cooking. As an alternate, they didn’t have as much footage of her as they did of the other contestants. The original fourth chef had woken up to an extra $10,000 in his bank account and had decided to skip the show. 

By the time they had finished all the intros and were ready to film the first round, it was nearly 11 in the morning and Shaw was starving. This was going to be torture.

The host, Jeff Something-or-Other (Shaw didn’t really care), was announcing the judges.

“And here we have our illustrious judges: Jennifer Cook, Lexi Bianchi, and Jesus Martinez!”

Sitting at the table was a short woman with dark brown hair and a determined look in her eye; a tall, thin woman with a dark red undercut in an impeccably fitted blazer; and a muscly guy with coiffed hair and a nirvana shirt under his suit jacket.

Shaw adjusted the boom in her hands as she took her place near the judges table, keeping one eye on the judges and the other on Root.

The cameras were placed, the baskets were done, and they were nearly ready. After five minutes of shooting the contestants opening their baskets, they were ready to go. Kevin ran to the baskets, pulled out the cloths hiding the ingredients, and closed them a final time.

Host Guy (which Shaw decided was infinitely more interesting than his name), counted out the ingredients for the appetizer round: chunky peanut butter, bacon-wrapped grilled cheese sandwiches, frozen yogurt, and pig ears.

Almost immediately, the chefs plunged into chaos. Root tilted her head slightly, no doubt listening to The Machine’s instructions, and raced off to the pantry. Emily froze for a few seconds, staring into the basket, and then started tearing into the sandwiches. Monica and Jackson almost smacked into each other as she spun a pan onto the stove and he ran off to the fridges. Shaw nearly started laughing. This was almost worth the lack of food in her stomach.

The round progressed relatively smoothly. No one cut themselves or blew up the studio and Kevin was huddled near the Assistant Director the whole time, so Shaw just enjoyed the chaos of the kitchen and listened to the judges gossip and commentate.

“Oh look at that, Hannah is candying the bacon, that’s an interesting choice…”

“What is Monica doing? There’s no way she can braise that in the time limit!”

“Jackson is actually pureeing the cheese sandwich?”

“And TIME IS UP!” Host Guy shouts.

Root and the contestants throw their hands up in unison as the judges move from their table to the kitchen area to examine each dish. Two assistants from photography run up and grab one dish from each contestant for filming and to put under the cloche if a contestant is eliminated.

Shaw is surprised at how beautiful some of the dishes are. Root’s dish is particularly shocking. It’s plated so beautifully that Shaw’s mouth begins to water and she almost misses Kevin dashing off toward the crew area. She follows him quietly and sees him muttering and pacing in front of his locker. He stops suddenly in his tracks, reaches up to hold his headset closer to his ear, and then rushes from the room. He’s so flustered that he doesn’t even notice Shaw looking around in an equipment bin across from the door.

Shaw is about to head for his locker when her headset crackles in her ear. _“Arian where the hell are you?”_ Brian’s voice blares through the headset _“We need to film the critiques!”_

“On my way.” Shaw replies curtly. “I was in the bathroom.” Silence on the other end. Excellent.

________________

 

Shaw is nearly falling asleep at her post. It’s all acidity this and not-enough-spice that and it’s all so boring. Hernandez told some story about being here so she could take her mom on vacation and Shaw groaned so loudly she almost ruined the shot. But they were finally almost done.

“Chef Karpinski, what have you prepared for us today?” Host Guy says.

“Well,” Root preened, clearly proud of herself. “I have prepared for you a crispy fried pig ear with creamy thai peanut dipping sauce and an asian snow pea and honeyed bacon slaw.”

The judges began eating and, to Shaw’s surprise, they appeared to love it.

“The crispiness of the pig ear and that subtle spice, paired with that creamy peanut sauce is just divine.” said Judge Bianchi.

“I agree.” Judge Martinez began. “But I feel like the dish is lacking cohesion. This slaw is beautifully prepared, but I just don’t see it meshing with the pig ear.”

“I’m gonna have to disagree with you. I think the sweetness of the bacon and the spiciness of the pig ear complement each other beautifully.” Judge Cook argued. 

On and on they went. Debating the dishes for over an hour. Finally, they decided on a loser, and DiPerro was sent home. Everyone was sent to break so they could clean up the set and restock the pantry. Shaw used the free time to find Root.

“Hey, I can take over here.” Shaw looked at the PA leading the contestants back to the holding area. He gave her a quizzical look, then shrugged and headed off to find some food. 

She and Root slowed their walk and let the other two chefs get a few paces ahead of them before they started talking. 

“Okay we have a serious problem.” Root muttered. “That guy judge, Martinez, has it in for our number. Before you got here he shoved past him so hard I thought the poor guy was gonna end up in a box of gaffer tape.”

“If we don’t figure this out, he could get to our guy first.” Shaw mused. “I saw him muttering and pacing near his locker. Dude looked like he was about to cry.”

“Well,” Root shrugged. “There’s not much I can do from in here.” she pointed to the holding room door, “but I’ll see what I can find out.”

“Okay. I’ll try to get into his locker.” Shaw walked to the front of the group and unlocked the door for them. “As with the first round, you guys stay here until we come to collect you.” She shut the door quickly after them and headed off to Kevin’s locker.

____________________

 

“Did you get in?” Root whispered during her tour of the pantry before round two.

“No. There were like fifteen people in there, it was too risky.” Shaw glanced over to the pantry area as she set up the boom for the second round. The judges were already seated and chatting amongst themselves.

“Seriously Bianchi, why haven’t you had him fired yet?” Martinez asked. “He’s a total creep. If I were you, I’d get a damn restraining order.”

Bianchi winced. “I know what you would do, Jesus. But I just don’t think he’s all that harmful. Creepy? Yes. But harmful? Nah. Give the guy a break, his girlfriend just dumped him.”

Martinez grumbled and slouched down in his chair, staring daggers across the set at Kevin, who looked like he was trying to hide himself behind the director’s chair.

Shaw bent down and pretended to fix something. “Yea we’ve got a serious problem Root. If we don’t get this number out of here soon Martinez is going to kill him.”

Root looked up at the judges table as the chefs were shepherded toward their workstations.

_“Shit, I see what you mean. Keep an eye on him this round, we’ll try to wrap this up before the last one.”_

Host guy walked up to his mark and began to narrate. “And the basket ingredients are: chard, gummy animals, french fries, and dover sole.”

Just like the last round, Root tilted her head for a moment and took off toward the pantry. She was nearly sprinting this time, Shaw noticed. The Machine must have one complicated dish in mind. 

This round was much more exciting than the last. Monica added salt instead of sugar and nearly lit the set on fire and Emily cut her hand and lost five minutes getting it taped up and cleaning her station. But Shaw paid them little attention. She spent nearly the entire round watching Kevin and Jesus. Finally, the round was over and the crew got a break while the judges examined the food. 

Shaw took off toward the crew lounge as quickly as she could, but the lighting crew was already in there and at the lockers. She groaned and headed back to set, the lockpicks she was slipping into her pocket unnoticed by the rest of the crew.

____________________

 

More story time. Shaw was getting real sick of story time. Especially since it was Root doing the telling. She was spinning some sob story about getting caught in a drive-by and having to work so hard to regain full use of her arm. Shaw rolled her eyes, knowing damn well that Root took that bullet protecting a number and that it did nothing to the use of her arm. The idiot was up and trying to use it again in a week. A week! Shaw was annoyed just thinking about it. 

But it was getting an awesome reaction from everyone else. Two of the judges called her brave and half the crew teared up. Shaw wanted to laugh. 

“And what have you made for us this round, Chef Karpinski?” Host Guy said.

“What you have there is sweet and sour pan fried sole over wilted garlic chard. I used the crispy parts of the french fries and some panko breadcrumbs as the crust, and the gummy animals as a sweetener in my sauce.”

Man, Shaw thought as the judges were once again delighted by Root’s dish, this show must be a piece of cake with an AI in your head. 

_“Hey! You and Cocoa Puffs doin alright?”_ Fusco’s voice in her ear nearly made Shaw jump, but it was a welcome distraction from the ridiculous critiques.

“Yea Fusco, we’re fine.” Shaw whispered. “You got anything?”

 _“Yea. I got a lot actually. So this Kevin guy, he seems pretty normal at first. No priors, no active investigations, barely a speeding ticket. But he does have some weird online habits.”_ Fusco said.

Shaw’s grip on the boom tightened.

_“So he and this Martinez guy. Nothing on paper, but their social media makes it seem like they really don’t like each other. Like Martinez makin’ all kinds of threats if he doesn’t back off. Doesn’t say what he should back off of though.”_

“Anything on Bianchi?” Shaw asked

_“Nothing on her personally. But this Kevin guy has a couple blogs dedicated to her. And one private blog that’s a whole ton of creepy. I think he’s stalking her. But it doesn’t look like she knows it.”_

“Any indication what he might do?”

_“Nothin’. Just that they’d all be sorry. I’ll keep digging though.”_

“Thanks Fusco.” Shaw said. 

Shaw thought for a moment. She needed to keep her cover, but if she didn’t get into Kevin’s locker and figure out what he was planning soon, Martinez was going to snap.

She waved the second assistant sound guy over and handed him the boom, whispering that she needed to take care of an issue and would be right back. 

Shaw made her way to the crew lounge and quickly picked the lock on Kevin’s locker.

“Amateurs” she chuckled as the five dollar lock popped open. 

She searched his things as quickly as possible, not caring if things went back where they came from or not. There was nothing on the top shelf, and nothing in his jacket pocket except a metro card. This was odd. No guns, no bombs, nothing that looked like it could cause any trouble at all. And his duffel bag contained only some workout clothes and two cans of chickpeas that appeared to be stolen from the pantry.

Shaw was definitely confused now. What could he possibly do with chickpeas? She asked Root, who didn’t have a clue how the chickpeas played into the plot their number was caught up in.

The sound of voices and laughter drifted down the hallway. Shaw shoved everything back into his locker and closed the door as the photography crew rounded the corner. She headed back out to the set, intent on finding Kevin and just beating the answers out of him when she passed Root and Monica in the hall. 

“At least we won’t have to worry about the ex,” she muttered.

Shaw searched the set, but there was no sign of Kevin. The assistant sound guy waved her over to the confessional and shoved the boom back into her hands, miming for her to stay. Shaw groaned and shrugged at the glares from the rest of the crew.

__________________

 

As Root and Monica were wandering around the pantry, examining the ingredients available for the final round, Shaw was going stir crazy. Every time she tried to slip away someone showed up and asked her for more help.

The final round was about to start, and she was no closer to figuring out what the hell the chickpeas were for. Root and Monica were being led up to their stations and positioned in front of the baskets.

The baskets!

It had to be the baskets. Somehow, Kevin had tampered with them. Shaw was sure of it.  
Root and Monica were pulling items from under the cloths in their baskets as Host Guy narrated.

“And the basket ingredients for this round are: bananas, pig skin, black currants, and...canned chickpeas!”

Root’s eyes went wide as she noticed the tiny puncture mark on the top of her can of chickpeas. She looked up and found Shaw mouthing “THE BASKETS” as best she could. She pulled out the chickpeas, and everything went black.

___________________

 

The Machine was beeping frantically in Root’s ear, guiding her through the chaos of the blackout She had caused to halt production. PAs were running for flashlights, the AD was shouting, and Andrea sounded like she was on the verge of raging or panicking.

After finally making it across the set, Root grabbed Shaw’s arm and pulled her into the loser’s exit hallway. 

“He tampered with the chickpeas!” Root said. “I don’t know what he did to them, but my can was punctured and I’m willing to bet that Monica’s was as well.”

“Ugh, dammit! Everyone just shut the hell up!” Shaw ripped off her headset and threw it to the ground, smashing it under her boot heel. “There, much better.”

She ran her hands over her hair and turned back to Root. “Okay, so he probably poisoned the cans. I’ll go take care of them, you grab Kevin.”

Shaw made her way back into the chaos of the set while Root headed off toward the judges’ dressing rooms.

Once back to set, Shaw grabbed the cans from the baskets and sprinted toward the employee lockers. Thankfully, it didn’t matter if anyone else was in the room because no one could see a thing. Shaw felt around for Kevin’s lock, making quick work of it and switching the cans of chickpeas back. She took the untampered cans, tossed them in the trash, and headed off in search of Root.

____________________ 

 

“Oh God, where is it?” Kevin’s voice carried through the hall. Root followed it to the last dressing room on the right, which The Machine informed her was Judge Lexi Bianchi’s dressing room.

“You know, if you tell me what you’re looking for, I’m sure I could help you find it.” Root purred into the darkness.

She could hear Kevin whirl around to face what he thought was the door. 

“Who the hell are you?” he yelled, trying not to sound panicked.

“You can call me Root.” she said as the lights flickered back on.

Kevin spun from the wall he was facing to Root, surprise coloring his face.

“You--You’re one of the contestants! You can’t be in here!”

“Well” Root drawled, “neither can you….Oh, come on now.” Root glanced at the knife Kevin had pulled off Lexi’s lunch tray and was now brandishing at her. “You don’t want to do this the hard way, do you? Because let me tell you,” she pulled the wooden spoon out of a pocket on her chef's pants and waved at him. “I have been running around all day, slaving over a hot stove. I am grumpy. I am exhausted. And I really don’t want to do this the hard way. So if you could just put the knife down and come with me I would really appreciate it.”

“You don’t understand!” he shouted. “You don’t understand what it’s like! I love her! And if I can’t have her, no one can!”

Kevin’s shouts echo down the hallway as he rushed at Root, slashing the knife wildly. 

She shrugs her shoulders and sidesteps Kevin easily. He may be angry, but he’s totally unskilled. He slams into the table behind her and doubles over. Root raises the wooden spoon and brings it down so hard on the back of Kevin’s head that it snaps in half. He crumples to the ground as Shaw rushes through the doorway.

She kicks Kevin onto his back and strides over to Root.

“The chickpeas are taken care of.” she said. “You know, I’ve seen a lot of murder weapons, but chickpeas? Seriously?” 

Root glanced at the puzzled look on Shaw’s face and burst out laughing. She laughed so hard that tears welled up in her eyes. Shaw looked at her and couldn’t help but smile.

Root is still chuckling as Andrea, the director, and half the crew scramble through the doorway of the tiny dressing room.

“What the hell is going on here?” Andrea looks from an unconscious Kevin on the floor to Shaw to Root, who is still holding the wooden spoon handle.

Root just snickers and glances at Shaw, who rolls her eyes and begins to explain.

“Your boy Kevin here was trying to poison the judges because he was in love with Lexi over there.” Shaw points out the door to Lexi, who is trying to stay out of the way on the other side of the hallway. “And she wasn’t in love with him. Check his locker. You should find the contaminated ingredients.” 

Shaw sauntered through the crowd and out the door. Everyone turned to Root. “It’s true. Also it’s probably botulism so maybe call Poison Control.” She shrugged, tossing the wooden spoon handle over her shoulder and heading out the door after Shaw.

_____________________________

 

“Oh it is so nice to not smell like weird foods.” Root sighs from the other end of the couch in their shared apartment.

Shaw looks up from the gun she’s cleaning and nods.

“How are the other branches doing?” she asks.

“The DC and LA branches are doing fine. Just small things here and there to get used to how the system works and hone their skills.” Root hums and pushes her glasses up her nose, her eyes never leaving her laptop. “Speaking of branches, She wants us to set up Seattle and Chicago next week.”

Shaw groans. “I hate setting up offices. None of these noobs know what they’re doing.”

“Well sweetie, that’s kind of the point.” Root chuckles. “Besides, you have to admit it’s nice to have the help.”

Root had her there. The days after Samaritan were so stressful. With John and Harold gone, it was up to Root and Shaw to handle local and international numbers and set up other branches in the major US cities. Shaw would never admit it, but she was getting too old for the crazy jetlag and the staying awake for 80 hours at a time. The 48-hour workdays were much more manageable. 

It really was amazing what a few key people placed in just the right areas could do for expanding one’s resources.

There was one thing still bothering Shaw about the day’s mission though. She set down her cleaned and reassembled gun and looked at Root.

“Chickpeas.”

“Hmm?” 

“Chickpeas, banana, bacon, and black currant. What the hell do you make with that?” Shaw asked.

Root smiled, setting her laptop down and moving over to Shaw’s side of the couch. “Well” she said, straddling Shaw’s hips, her hands playing with the hair at the back of Shaw’s neck. “Cake”

“Cake?” Shaw hums.

“Yup”

“What kind of cake?”

“Banana cake with a maple bacon glaze and black currant aquafaba ice cream.”

Shaw grimaces and leans back, “aquafaba ice cream?”

Root snickers and nods. 

“That’s disgusting. Go cow or go home.”

Root laughs at that. “I know sweetie. How about some real ice cream?”

Shaw smiles. “Absolutely”

Root leans down slowly and kisses her, hard. 

“Coming right up” she hums into Shaw’s lips.

And suddenly Root was gone, skipping toward the kitchen and leaving a dazed Shaw wondering what the hell just happened.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so yea, it's basically chopped but I changed the name because i felt like it ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
